T. Shinn – författare

If nothing else, the twelve papers assembled in this volume should lay to rest the idea that the interesting debates about the nature of science are still being conducted by "internalists" vs. "externalists,"" rationalists" vs. "arationalists, n or even "normative epistemologists" vs. "empirical sociologists of knowledge. " Although these distinctions continue to haunt much of the theoretical discussion in philosophy and sociology of science, our authors have managed to elude their strictures by finally getting beyond the post-positivist preoccupation of defending a certain division of labor among the science studies disciplines. But this is hardly to claim that our historians, philosophers, sociologists, and psychologists have brought about an "end of ideology," or even an "era of good feelings," to their debates. Rather, they have drawn new lines of battle which center more squarely than ever on practical matters of evaluating and selecting methods for studying science. To get a vivid sense of the new terrain that was staked out at the Yearbook conference, let us start by meditating on a picture. The front cover of a recent collection of sociological studies edited by one of us (Woolgar 1988) bears a stylized picture of a series of lined up open books presented in a typical perspective fashion. The global shape comes close to a trapezium, and is composed of smaller trapeziums gradually decreasing in size and piled upon each other so as to suggest a line receding in depth. The perspective is stylized too.

Present trends indicate that in the years to come transnational science, whether basic or applied and involving persons, equipment or funding, will grow considerably. The main purpose of this volume is to try to understand the reasons for this denationalization of science, its historical contexts and its social forms. The Introduction to the volume sets out the socio-political, intellectual, and economic contexts for the nationalization and denationalization of the sciences, processes that have extended over four centuries. The articles examine the specific conditions that have given rise to the growth of transnational science in the 20th century. Among these are: the need for cognitive and technical standardization of scientific knowledge-products, pressure toward cost-sharing of large installations such as CERN, the voluntary and involuntary migration of scientists, and the global market for R&D products that has emerged at the end of the century. The volume raises many new questions for research by historians and sociologists of science and poses problems that are of concern both to scientists and science policy-makers.

block possible Soviet expansion by mobilizing European "democracies", the policy soon extended to some developing countries in Asia and Latin America. In response, the USSR gradually initiated development programs for newly independent nations in Asia and Africa. In this context, super power rivalry operated in the South to (i) expand spheres of influence and control; (ii) guard Southern nations from the influence and incursions launched by the opposed camp; (iii) stimulate indigenous development. With few exceptions, Southern nations provided little input to the definition and execution of North-South dynamics during this period. In the case of Africa and to some extent Asia, the acquisition of independence was so recent and often sudden that there was little time to reflect on the kind of policies and measures needed to build bal­ anced relations with the former mother country. In Latin America, the Monroe Doctrine had long insured that the region was a virtual captive of the US. Aid for development was contingent on conformity to US political and economic interests. The cognitive component of South-North dealings strongly reflected the two above mentioned dispositions. The relative lack of political experience in the South. and the dearth of an organized and sizable intellectual/academic community, meant that there were few cognitive and human resources for undertaking careful study and analysis of the conditions and needs of develop­ ment from a Southern perspective (influential exceptions existed though, such as Raul Prebisch in Latin America or Ghandi in India).

these. In this book, we appropriate their conception of research-technology, and ex­ tend it to many other phenomena which are less stable and less localized in time and space than the Zeeman/Cotton situation. In the following pages, we use the concept for instances where research activities are orientated primarily toward technologies which facilitate both the production of scientific knowledge and the production of other goods. In particular, we use the tenn for instances where instruments and meth­ ods· traverse numerous geographic and institutional boundaries; that is, fields dis­ tinctly different and distant from the instruments' and methods' initial focus. We suggest that instruments such as the ultra-centrifuge, and the trajectories of the men who devise such artefacts, diverge in an interesting way from other fonns of artefacts and careers in science, metrology and engineering with which students of science and technology are more familiar. The instrument systems developed by re­ search-technologists strike us as especially general, open-ended, and flexible. When tailored effectively, research-technology instruments potentially fit into many niches and serve a host of unrelated applications. Their multi-functional character distin­ guishes them from many other devices which are designed to address specific, nar­ rowly defined problems in a circumscribed arena in and outside of science. Research­ technology activities link universities, industry, public and private research or me­ trology establishments, instrument-making finns, consulting companies, the military, and metrological agencies. Research-technology practitioners do not follow the career path of the traditional academic or engineering professional.

The prevailing view of scientific popularization, both within academic circles and beyond, affirms that its objectives and procedures are unrelated to tasks of cognitive development and that its pertinence is by and large restricted to the lay public. Consistent with this view, popularization is frequently portrayed as a logical and hence inescapable consequence of a culture dominated by science-based products and procedures and by a scientistic ideology. On another level, it is depicted as a quasi-political device for chan­ nelling the energies of the general public along predetermined paths; examples of this are the nineteenth-century Industrial Revolution and the U. S. -Soviet space race. Alternatively, scientific popularization is described as a carefully contrived plan which enables scientists or their spokesmen to allege that scientific learn­ ing is equitably shared by scientists and non-scientists alike. This manoeuvre is intended to weaken the claims of anti-scientific protesters that scientists monopolize knowledge as a means of sustaining their social privileges. Pop­ ularization is also sometimes presented as a psychological crutch. This, in an era of increasing scientific specialisation, permits the researchers involved to believe that by transcending the boundaries of their narrow fields, their endeavours assume a degree of general cognitive importance and even extra­ scientific relevance. Regardless of the particular thrust of these different analyses it is important to point out that all are predicated on the tacit presupposition that scientific popularization belongs essentially to the realm of non-science, or only concerns the periphery of scientific activity.

The prevailing view of scientific popularization, both within academic circles and beyond, affirms that its objectives and procedures are unrelated to tasks of cognitive development and that its pertinence is by and large restricted to the lay public. Consistent with this view, popularization is frequently portrayed as a logical and hence inescapable consequence of a culture dominated by science-based products and procedures and by a scientistic ideology. On another level, it is depicted as a quasi-political device for chan­ nelling the energies of the general public along predetermined paths; examples of this are the nineteenth-century Industrial Revolution and the U. S. -Soviet space race. Alternatively, scientific popularization is described as a carefully contrived plan which enables scientists or their spokesmen to allege that scientific learn­ ing is equitably shared by scientists and non-scientists alike. This manoeuvre is intended to weaken the claims of anti-scientific protesters that scientists monopolize knowledge as a means of sustaining their social privileges. Pop­ ularization is also sometimes presented as a psychological crutch. This, in an era of increasing scientific specialisation, permits the researchers involved to believe that by transcending the boundaries of their narrow fields, their endeavours assume a degree of general cognitive importance and even extra­ scientific relevance. Regardless of the particular thrust of these different analyses it is important to point out that all are predicated on the tacit presupposition that scientific popularization belongs essentially to the realm of non-science, or only concerns the periphery of scientific activity.

If nothing else, the twelve papers assembled in this volume should lay to rest the idea that the interesting debates about the nature of science are still being conducted by "internalists" vs. "externalists,"" rationalists" vs. "arationalists, n or even "normative epistemologists" vs. "empirical sociologists of knowledge. " Although these distinctions continue to haunt much of the theoretical discussion in philosophy and sociology of science, our authors have managed to elude their strictures by finally getting beyond the post-positivist preoccupation of defending a certain division of labor among the science studies disciplines. But this is hardly to claim that our historians, philosophers, sociologists, and psychologists have brought about an "end of ideology," or even an "era of good feelings," to their debates. Rather, they have drawn new lines of battle which center more squarely than ever on practical matters of evaluating and selecting methods for studying science. To get a vivid sense of the new terrain that was staked out at the Yearbook conference, let us start by meditating on a picture. The front cover of a recent collection of sociological studies edited by one of us (Woolgar 1988) bears a stylized picture of a series of lined up open books presented in a typical perspective fashion. The global shape comes close to a trapezium, and is composed of smaller trapeziums gradually decreasing in size and piled upon each other so as to suggest a line receding in depth. The perspective is stylized too.

Present trends indicate that in the years to come transnational science, whether basic or applied and involving persons, equipment or funding, will grow considerably. The main purpose of this volume is to try to understand the reasons for this denationalization of science, its historical contexts and its social forms. The Introduction to the volume sets out the socio-political, intellectual, and economic contexts for the nationalization and denationalization of the sciences, processes that have extended over four centuries. The articles examine the specific conditions that have given rise to the growth of transnational science in the 20th century. Among these are: the need for cognitive and technical standardization of scientific knowledge-products, pressure toward cost-sharing of large installations such as CERN, the voluntary and involuntary migration of scientists, and the global market for R&D products that has emerged at the end of the century. The volume raises many new questions for research by historians and sociologists of science and poses problems that are of concern both to scientists and science policy-makers.

block possible Soviet expansion by mobilizing European "democracies", the policy soon extended to some developing countries in Asia and Latin America. In response, the USSR gradually initiated development programs for newly independent nations in Asia and Africa. In this context, super power rivalry operated in the South to (i) expand spheres of influence and control; (ii) guard Southern nations from the influence and incursions launched by the opposed camp; (iii) stimulate indigenous development. With few exceptions, Southern nations provided little input to the definition and execution of North-South dynamics during this period. In the case of Africa and to some extent Asia, the acquisition of independence was so recent and often sudden that there was little time to reflect on the kind of policies and measures needed to build bal­ anced relations with the former mother country. In Latin America, the Monroe Doctrine had long insured that the region was a virtual captive of the US. Aid for development was contingent on conformity to US political and economic interests. The cognitive component of South-North dealings strongly reflected the two above mentioned dispositions. The relative lack of political experience in the South. and the dearth of an organized and sizable intellectual/academic community, meant that there were few cognitive and human resources for undertaking careful study and analysis of the conditions and needs of develop­ ment from a Southern perspective (influential exceptions existed though, such as Raul Prebisch in Latin America or Ghandi in India).

The prevailing view of scientific popularization, both within academic circles and beyond, affirms that its objectives and procedures are unrelated to tasks of cognitive development and that its pertinence is by and large restricted to the lay public. Consistent with this view, popularization is frequently portrayed as a logical and hence inescapable consequence of a culture dominated by science-based products and procedures and by a scientistic ideology. On another level, it is depicted as a quasi-political device for chan­ nelling the energies of the general public along predetermined paths; examples of this are the nineteenth-century Industrial Revolution and the U. S. -Soviet space race. Alternatively, scientific popularization is described as a carefully contrived plan which enables scientists or their spokesmen to allege that scientific learn­ ing is equitably shared by scientists and non-scientists alike. This manoeuvre is intended to weaken the claims of anti-scientific protesters that scientists monopolize knowledge as a means of sustaining their social privileges. Pop­ ularization is also sometimes presented as a psychological crutch. This, in an era of increasing scientific specialisation, permits the researchers involved to believe that by transcending the boundaries of their narrow fields, their endeavours assume a degree of general cognitive importance and even extra­ scientific relevance. Regardless of the particular thrust of these different analyses it is important to point out that all are predicated on the tacit presupposition that scientific popularization belongs essentially to the realm of non-science, or only concerns the periphery of scientific activity.

these. In this book, we appropriate their conception of research-technology, and ex­ tend it to many other phenomena which are less stable and less localized in time and space than the Zeeman/Cotton situation. In the following pages, we use the concept for instances where research activities are orientated primarily toward technologies which facilitate both the production of scientific knowledge and the production of other goods. In particular, we use the tenn for instances where instruments and meth­ ods· traverse numerous geographic and institutional boundaries; that is, fields dis­ tinctly different and distant from the instruments'' and methods'' initial focus. We suggest that instruments such as the ultra-centrifuge, and the trajectories of the men who devise such artefacts, diverge in an interesting way from other fonns of artefacts and careers in science, metrology and engineering with which students of science and technology are more familiar. The instrument systems developed by re­ search-technologists strike us as especially general, open-ended, and flexible. When tailored effectively, research-technology instruments potentially fit into many niches and serve a host of unrelated applications. Their multi-functional character distin­ guishes them from many other devices which are designed to address specific, nar­ rowly defined problems in a circumscribed arena in and outside of science. Research­ technology activities link universities, industry, public and private research or me­ trology establishments, instrument-making finns, consulting companies, the military, and metrological agencies. Research-technology practitioners do not follow the career path of the traditional academic or engineering professional.

If nothing else, the twelve papers assembled in this volume should lay to rest the idea that the interesting debates about the nature of science are still being conducted by "internalists" vs. "externalists,"" rationalists" vs. "arationalists, n or even "normative epistemologists" vs. "empirical sociologists of knowledge. " Although these distinctions continue to haunt much of the theoretical discussion in philosophy and sociology of science, our authors have managed to elude their strictures by finally getting beyond the post-positivist preoccupation of defending a certain division of labor among the science studies disciplines. But this is hardly to claim that our historians, philosophers, sociologists, and psychologists have brought about an "end of ideology," or even an "era of good feelings," to their debates. Rather, they have drawn new lines of battle which center more squarely than ever on practical matters of evaluating and selecting methods for studying science. To get a vivid sense of the new terrain that was staked out at the Yearbook conference, let us start by meditating on a picture. The front cover of a recent collection of sociological studies edited by one of us (Woolgar 1988) bears a stylized picture of a series of lined up open books presented in a typical perspective fashion. The global shape comes close to a trapezium, and is composed of smaller trapeziums gradually decreasing in size and piled upon each other so as to suggest a line receding in depth. The perspective is stylized too.

Present trends indicate that in the years to come transnational science, whether basic or applied and involving persons, equipment or funding, will grow considerably. The main purpose of this volume is to try to understand the reasons for this denationalization of science, its historical contexts and its social forms. The Introduction to the volume sets out the socio-political, intellectual, and economic contexts for the nationalization and denationalization of the sciences, processes that have extended over four centuries. The articles examine the specific conditions that have given rise to the growth of transnational science in the 20th century. Among these are: the need for cognitive and technical standardization of scientific knowledge-products, pressure toward cost-sharing of large installations such as CERN, the voluntary and involuntary migration of scientists, and the global market for R&D products that has emerged at the end of the century. The volume raises many new questions for research by historians and sociologists of science and poses problems that are of concern both to scientists and science policy-makers.